Alive
by NotebookPaper
Summary: <html><head></head>Aerith wasn't often one to be taken by surprise—she'd had many, most blessings in disguise—but when she was surprised it was always a rush of sweet adrenalin, undeniable proof that she was alive.</html>


Title: Alive

Rating: Hard M

Author: NotebookPaper

Pairing: ZackxAerith

Notes: This piece is entirely shameless. I wrote this both for myself and for the ZackxAerith lovers who would like, just for a little, to forget the angst and look at the possible, simply-smut-ridden-might-have-been. I love all the canon bits that go into making Zerith what it is, and even though I might wish for certain things, if I had any control over the FF7-verse I would not change a single thing. This is my fan-verse, however, so I can get what I want over here. I really, truly, hope you enjoy this bit of plotless debauchery; it's just a scene with the two being very much alive.

Disclaimer: I do not own Aerith or Zack. Guess what would have happened if I did?

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><p>Aerith was elbow deep in soapy water when she heard the door to the shop chime and slide open. She never really locked the doors after hours while she was cleaning up, figuring she could easily take care of herself. Besides, if someone just <em>needed<em> tea this late at night there was no way she could refuse them. However, tonight it wasn't a customer that came to her, but this person certainly sought one thing the cheery tea-shop had to offer.

With her back to the newcomer, she started to hum when she recognized his scent, smiling the type of smile he could probably see form at the outline of her cheek. She figured he was going to try to scare her, or pretend to anyway; when his gloved hands dropped on her shoulders, a quick motion that blew the loose stands of her hair forward, she knew she was right. Her skin still prickled to attention and her chin lifted, her frame shocked for all she had expected his teasing.

"You seem to be closing late, Aerith. Anything up?"

His voice was close to her ear, a thrill she hadn't been expecting. He hadn't succeeded in scaring her, yet simple surprise wasn't quite the way to describe the sudden bubbling under her diaphragm either. She had goose-bumps, yet her voice trilled onward as if nothing had occurred. She didn't move except to continue washing her tea-cups and plates.

"No, unless you count Tifa not being here as bad."

"Huh." He stepped back, moving around to help by drying the dishes. "Why wasn't she in today?"

"Oh!" Her green eyes raised, her voice catching for no other reason than to allow her excited thoughts to form coherently. "Well, I'm sure the news isn't exactly a secret—I mean, she didn't tell me not to tell anyone—but maybe she'd want to—She's pregnant!"

Blue eyes leveled at her in delighted shock, the grin curving his lips irresistible enough to make her own smile grow wider.

Following the announcement there was the usual bit of conversation, the same generic questions being asked to the delight of both participants.

"Their child is going to be simply gorgeous. I mean, can you imagine a child with Tifa's hair and Cloud's eyes?" Aerith giggled, thinking of the many traits the child could pull from their parents. She already knew what kind of accessories she would surprise them with if the child was a girl. She sighed, delighted, thinking of babies, not realizing she had ceased her washing.

When he slipped behind her, his arms overlapping hers, she started, this time surprise preceding the same feeling from before that was so familiar but couldn't quite be described. She overcame her shock, beaming down to her dishes again as his ungloved hands slipped over hers and led them in wiping away the trace impurities clinging to the used plates. His chin dropped to her neck minutes later when both realized the sink was nearly empty. The thing about Aerith's tea cups and plates, which were almost always licked clean of little bits of pastry desserts, was that they were extremely easy to clean and left little that was actually dirty in the sink, making the mundane task of washing them quick and almost enjoyable, especially under such circumstances. When the last dish was set in the drying rack and they unplugged the sink, he took a firmer hold of her hand, signaling he wasn't quite done with her. He led it up to tuck the stray wisps of her bangs behind her ear.

Their fingers were still dripping with sink water, and slightly foamy. He settled her hand on the side of her neck in spite of this, rubbing their wet fingers together for a moment before dragging them across her throat and over her collarbone, where she knew he felt her heart begin to beat under her warming flesh. The warmth was cooled only momentarily by the moisture on their hands.

The other set of hands had settled on the side of the sink, his fingers moving between hers on edge of the basin. Everywhere he touched she started to radiate a heat for him and through the fabric of her simple pink dress she became more aware of the shape of his torso, and how his pectoral muscles rested just above her shoulder blades. If her hair hadn't been bound she would have made a comfortable pillow of his broad chest; that she thought of such a thing put her in mind of just how comfortable she was beginning to feel in the lethargy his presence induced. She sighed the type of sigh that comes when one feels at ease enough to rest; she could feel the heat at her back heighten when she exhaled, her body moving to rest heavily against him. Somewhere inside she still found it amazing how he barely moved when she leaned into him, giving only enough to support her comfortably, but never so much to seem anything less than a bulwark; even so many years after life-threatening situations became less than common-place he could still remain just as sturdy as always. She liked to think he loved being sturdy for her, for all his nature made people who didn't understand him question his sincerity.

Their hands, joined on the sink, moved up over her stomach before she switched his hold so her slender fingers stroked over his calloused ones, pressing his palm into the gentle give of her abdomen. Her hand at the side of her neck dropped from his grasp and connected with his fingers caressing her waist, while the petite fingers already there let go and slid up into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently pulling him forward so she could turn at the waist and look up into his eyes. He leaned down to touch her nose with his own, his forehead meeting hers soon after. Aerith's pink lips were a simple crane of the neck away from touching his, and he reveled in it.

"I don't want to be in view of the front door for this. It's a little unseemly, don't you think?"

His eyes widened in shocked delight at her words and a soft, unintentional "hah" sounded from his throat. His reaction made her giggle, her own presumptiveness adding a faint pink to her cheeks, which didn't quite match her dress because she might not have meant to imply what he was now thinking of.

He pressed her closer to the sink, both his hands dropping to grasp the edge of the basin. She could feel him—an extra pressure against the curve of her butt leading to the arch of her back—his forearms warming her sides as his hold became tighter. His chin tucked behind the flesh between her neck and shoulder, the warmth of his mouth connecting with the bare skin revealed by the thin strap of her simple pink dress. Despite the heat, she reveled in the chilling wave of goose-flesh that left her skin prickled to attention, waiting for more of his sweet treatment.

"I didn't say that's what I was here for, Aerith." He must have licked his lips, for when he pressed them to her flesh again they were moist and reinvigorated the waves rolling under her skin. "But it sounds…"

She had closed her eyes, half listening, her head moving whichever way his lips inadvertently pushed or pulled it. Thus, she was not ready for the shock that came when the man lightly splashed her with the contents of the sink.

Aerith felt the warm dishwater cool first the exposed flesh of her neck and shoulder, for he had already lit flames to those areas. The initial shock of being splashed made her jump, but she had no time to make her short-lived fury known because he used the opportunity to lift her from the floor and sweep her up to the counter on their right, hidden from public view by the wall hiding the register. She had clamped her eyes shut, the small cry she vaguely remembered uttering when he picked her up paling in comparison to the sound of her heart in her ears. Aerith wasn't often one to be taken by surprise—she'd had many, most blessings in disguise—but when she was surprised it was always a rush of sweet adrenalin, undeniable proof that she was alive.

"Zack! Wh—" The utterance suddenly held no meaning.

Sitting atop the surface she was assaulted by the depth of his blue eyes, the heaviness of his level gaze, for their heads reached the same height from this vantage. The look stifled any protests she might have had at his behavior, giving her mind time to process the hilarity of his actions; she wasn't the least bit angry. Her wrist rose to block her oncoming giggles, joined by her other when her hands clasped just under her nose. She could see the corners of his eyes crinkle at the sight, his warm breath on her knuckles before his lips replaced it.

Her knees parted as he came right to the edge of the counter she was sitting on, the pink fabric of her dress falling to the sides of her legs to reveal the barest hint of her thighs. He wasn't looking at those yet, and she was happy to hold his gaze because he was simply beautiful. The strands of sable hair that hung in his face glided against their hands when he pulled his lips away from her knuckles and rubbed his fingers over the slightly waterlogged joints.

"Aerith," her name rolled off his tongue and out from behind his teeth, the stress on the "air" in her name always more defined.

"Zack," his name was an easy exhale for her, a simple sigh with a defining, soft, barely there "ck."

She pulled his hands down to her waist before her own delved into his hair, rubbing into his scalp until she wrapped her arms more tightly around him. The way he held her to his chest made her inhale and soon their lips picked up where their eyes, now closed, left off. Zack tasted like work and play, odd, inviting and lovable just like the man himself. His nose felt good right next to her own and Aerith wondered why she even thought of such a thing. She giggled lightly with their joint breath when she pulled back and bumped her nose playfully against his. Zack returned the favor, grinning with her even as he kissed the bone of her cheek, then her jaw, then he drew her gently up from the counter to kiss her neck without having to lean, a hand moving under her bare thigh; the hand was able to move back over the lightness of her panties because her legs were suddenly tightened around him enough to keep her head above his.

Aerith's goose-bumps were back because he remained on her throat, the feel of his smile beginning to fade as his breath became warmer, moist because his lips were now parted and she could feel his tongue and his hand gripped her behind; his other hand was pressing flush between her shoulder-blades. Her lungs took and released sweet air in a controlled fashion, but she could feel the rate increasing and she wanted to breathe nothing but him.

Sweet noises soon vibrated under his lips and he saw fit to lean her back, supporting her with his strong, strong hands, looking at her again with those blue, blue eyes, and she loved looking at him.

With enough space to work she tugged at his dark shirt, he setting her back on the counter at her cue to start shedding the unnecessary stuff. His arms were up in the air for mere moments as the shirt came off, her fingers raked over the taut skin bared to her eager eyes, the give of his flesh enticing and worthy of more attention though he was no less eager to rid her of occlusion. Zack spent more time bared to the sun than she, and with summer a month into its days, his sun-kissed body contrasted with hers to lovely effect.

Before his mouth could lay claim to her bared flesh, Aerith, sitting on the pink dress thrown back off her arms, bumped his nose upward with her own so she could slip her lips against his again, raising her knees to his ribcage before tightening her thighs insistently around him again; her legs were high enough not to impede his progress with his pants, or at least she hoped.

She heard them fall to the ground some muffled moments later and dropped her legs to settle them more comfortably around his waist, though he broke their kiss a little sooner than she liked. Letting him know this with a suddenly placed hand on the back of his neck and a little annoyed gibberish, she was pleased when he found a way to keep their connection and ease his fingers under the hem of her panties. The rest of their kiss was short lived because she found a taste for his jawbone, then his ear and leaning close enough to reach it placed their bodies so close together she might have melded into him.

Aerith's petite hands were in Zack's hair again when he decided to be greedy and sunk his mouth to her collar bone, yet he back tracked here and there and she giggled because it seemed he couldn't decide where he wanted to kiss her more. Eventually he gave way to the insistent perkiness of her flushed, rosy nipples, to her delight; though she felt the urge to tilt her head back, when he licked and played with her pert breasts she was at least able to watch, the view of his tongue flicking over these knots of flesh a certain carnal thrill she'd never deny intrigued her, for aside from the feeling the view put her mind of something more apt to send her over an edge. She shuddered at his prowess, a short keen coming from her before he settled his lips over her heart, sucking the flesh until she nearly winced at the pain of it; a mark was left over an older faded one.

He grinned at her, eyebrows pulled devilishly downward, a look which added extra red to her flushed body. He set her down on her dress and she realized he had been holding her up by the rear again, her soft flesh missing the feel of his hands. To make up for it, she moved her own fingers to his waist as he picked up their kiss again, drawing them down over his hips. When she could no longer hold back her hunger to taste him, and their kiss became more wet than chaste, she gripped the length of him between her slender fingers; his cock had insistently stood against her stomach for some time, pulsing with a need for attention she was glad to give, for it spoke to her own needs.

With fingers working over him again and again, again and again it was only a matter of time before Zack hissed and pulled back from Aerith's lips, a rough exhale punctuating his wordless exhortation for her to continue. She bit her lip, loving that she made him utter anything for it seemed a male prerogative to remain as quiet as possible under such circumstances. His ungloved hand found her third nub of flesh, however, and as always she found it somewhat difficult to remember to keep her hand moving when her own insides ached for him.

Perhaps it was that he had been gone for a couple days that she felt ready for him quicker than normal, but she wasn't thinking of that when she beseeched him with the politest speech she could muster.

"Zack, Zack, ugh-Za-ck!" A whine. "Please, oh-I-need—" A breath. "—you inside _me_."

She found him more than ready to oblige, though there was always that smug look to his face, like when he dragged that thumb over the tip of his nose and—

Aerith's nails were primed around his shoulders and she watched him with hooded green, dewy eyes as he pushed the head of his cock against her sex. The initial resistance gave way quickly and her head titled back when the insistent pulse was lulled with sweet pressure. Her knees rose to his sides, but for now she was fine with leaning back on the counter, her elbows supporting her as Zack built up to a luxuriant pace, his hands holding up her thighs. She inhaled, exhaled with each thrust, sometimes an inhale coming sharper, an exhale dragging longer as her eyes dabbled between remaining closed and watching him; she always loved the way he took an interest in how her body moved, particularly the bouncing of her breasts. When his eyes became glued to the sight and she saw the muscles of his jaw start to clench she rose up again in a rush, fearing she'd miss the opportunity before the two of them would succumb to the pull on their stomachs before it was perfect.

Sitting up slowed their pace, a delicious warmth overtaking them that wasn't yet their mutual finale. More they were basking in the warmth they created, clawing each other closer and kissing when breaths allowed it. Aerith moved her hips in sync with his for as long as Zack would allow before he finally lifted her from the counter again.

From this vantage she looked into his face, registering what she could in the fog settling over her senses. To her he looked pleased, and that's enough to relate.

One more kiss accompanied by the sound of hissing air through their noses before she latched on to him, melding impossibly to his body as one hand raked into his hair and remained as the other gripped into his back. She was probably keening for him, groaning guttural, or biting his shoulder, but as soon as she heard his needless warning—as soon as she felt him twitching inside her—she felt the tension abate and soundly, almost too slowly, never fast enough_—'oh—here—it—cums'—_and she understood rapture.

Aerith's eyes returned from their trip into her skull and their lids closed. She was "hmm"ing tunelessly, yet melodically and had the intention to stretch like a cat before she was haphazardly back on the counter, which was cold in comparison to Zack's arms and legs.

His hands were on either side of her hips, his face leaning into her shoulder this time, lips tensing now and again next to her collar-bone. Her arms had to drop from his shoulders too soon, but when they did his were around her again, drawing her close. This was one of the few times Zack was quiet without being smug. The smugness would come with the moments, but for now she was happy to lean her forehead against his and merely take in that smile of his he didn't know she could see.

"I'm glad Tifa wasn't in tonight." He said moments later. "And I would _love_ to revisit this counter again."

"There will be opportunities."

"A lot of opportunities?" She could practically hear the rise and fall of his eyebrows in his speech.

She half giggled, a genuine smile spreading under their noses. "The rest of our life will be full of them."


End file.
